


Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: Borderlands Prompts/Requests [5]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, M/M, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: "18 with a drunk Tim, slip some rhysothy in there if you can :3"-Anon
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Series: Borderlands Prompts/Requests [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648405
Kudos: 11





	Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!

The one thing about the main Atlas facility on Pandora that Rhys and the employees all liked quite a bit was that the place actually had all four seasons.

Winter wasn’t quite here yet, but the first snow was due by the end of the week―Rhys had to keep that in mind as he went forward. If it snowed too much, even with the company apartments being less than a five minute walk from the factory, he’d personally found out last year that it was all too possible for his workers to be unable to make it into work. He’d managed to fall rather heavily into a deep-ish hole covered by a four-foot layer of powdery snow and had to climb out on his own without making a fool of himself in the process. It hadn’t been fun.

He’d had to put production on hold until his heads of security had rounded up enough flamethrower-wielding maniacs to thaw out a path.

At the moment, he was trying to find a more reasonable solution with those same heads of security. Sure, Pyro-Nomads were effective and he’d round some more up this year if he had to, but there had to be something less… Potentially fatal to his workers. Something more reasonable.

“Well,” Var said, tapping her chin thoughtfully and cocking out her hip, “Back on Terra, we salted the roads in winter t’ keep ‘em from freezin’ over.”

“We also had a surplus of salt on Terra.” Fuse pointed out with a vague motion in her direction, “Findin’ anythin’ but table salt on this shithole of a planet is damn near impossible.”

Rhys frowned. “Would table salt work?” He asked, not really caring how much he may have to buy if it meant keeping the way to work clear. Keeping the path clear and the company running was important in the winter, because he couldn’t afford to shut down production for the entire season. They were still working toward becoming a company powerful enough to be able to get away with not producing for a week, for Pete’s sake.

“Well, if we had ‘bout a metric ton of it,” Fuse snorted, “Maybe it’d be enough.”

“I’ll have someone run the calculations.” Rhys sighed, “We’ll just have to wait and see. For now, I’m arming you two with snow shovels and you’re going to be on shoveling duty until―”

At about that second exactly, the door to Rhys’ office slid open without any preamble, and all three current occupants tensed.

There was a tense second before all of them realized the person entering without asking first was Tim.

The relief was immediate, and Rhys was about to greet the man when he realized that Tim was covered in snow and stumbling, cheeks and nose red. A peal of laughter left the man as he stumbled right into the side of his desk.

“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers.” The man said without any effort to hide the way Jack’s voice left his throat.

Rhys blinked.

Fuse and Var dissolved quite immediately into laughter.

Tim stumbled his way across the office to them where they all stood next to the entrance to Rhys’ old office. It dawned on Rhys, after a moment, that Tim was drunk. Very, very drunk.

“And Merry Christmas to you, too, baby.” Tim purred when he was next to him, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a somewhat sloppy, icy-cold kiss to his temple.

Rhys did his best not to cringe away from the cold, rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arm around Tim in return.

“Tim,” He sighed, “It’s December 4th.”

“It’s basically Christmas,” Tim agreed gleefully.

He sighed again. Of course Tim would be that kind of person.

… He really couldn’t be that upset, though. He liked it when Tim was happy.


End file.
